I WANT


I want to spread you,
in the constellation of my eye,
and then, with you,
my sighs to feed.
I want, with you,
to water my thoughts,
and afterwards,
my dreams to breed.
I want you to make,
clouds, in my soul,
to go softly,
barefoot on a flower – all by you.
I want all those eager mornings,
to be hypnotised with burning thirst,
like flowers, hypnotised,
by dew.

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Infatuation